


Pitying the Omega

by Reldai



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Drug Use, F/M, Omega Verse, Religious Conflict, Sherlolly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-27
Updated: 2014-05-27
Packaged: 2018-01-26 17:21:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1696301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reldai/pseuds/Reldai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock Holmes was hired to recover an Omega who was taken from a medical research lab. However, when he finds this Margaret Hooper...</p><p>...she is not what he expects.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pitying the Omega

The burn that the I.V. put in her veins was gone; now there was only a feeling of pins and needles stabbing at her arms and legs. She was all too aware that her body had changed. She felt that at any moment she could turn to ice, from her bones out. Margaret’s hands shook. Pulling her knees to her chest, she tried to get the shaking under control. Though nothing helped, not even the warm water that was surrounding her in the tub.

That woman had said that this would be better for her. That taking her and removing the I.V. would make Margaret feel like a true person. But how was this _better?_

“Miss Hooper?” The woman poked her head into the bathroom, a cloth bundle in her hands. “I brought these for you. I believe they are your size.”

Margaret blinked once—not looking towards the woman—then stood up in the tub. The water dripped down her skin, trailing back to the bath. “Clothes?”

“Uh-huh.” The woman hummed, setting the bundle on the counter before grabbing a towel off the rack. Margaret glanced sideways, watching the blonde unfold the towel, moving slowly to wrap her in it. “Tell me, how long has your father kept you in that lab?”

Margaret shrugged. She gripped the towel in her hands, hugging it around her petite body. She could hardly remember a time when she was not in the lab. Her earliest memories were within those walls. “I honestly do not know. Forever, perhaps? It was my home.”

“Forever?” The other let out a sigh with a shake of her head, “Come on, let’s get you dressed.”

“What’s your name?” Margaret asked, looking up at the woman who was helping her. “I mean, I only knew you as the nurse. Father went through so many that I never attempted to learn their names.”

“Mary, Mary Morstan.” She gave her a smile—a first in all their time together—and offered her a hand, pity swimming in her eyes.

“I’m Margaret, Margaret Hooper.”

“Yes.” She gave a small chuckle while Margaret scolded herself. She didn’t need to introduce herself; Mary had already used her name a few times.

Margaret bit her lip as she took Mary’s hand and stepped out of the tub, careful not to slip on the tiling. It was a strange concept, taking a bath. She was always kept clean by what the nurses did to her. Harsh towels—or if she was lucky, soft sponges—with lye soap that burnt her skin. It wasn’t anything like soaking in water. Or using soap on her hair and skin that smelt better than anything she had ever held to her nose. They were even gentle enough to make Margaret question if they had had any effect on her.

“Are you like me?” she asked, suddenly curious.

* * *

How could anyone look at Margaret Hooper and not feel their heart drop to their stomach? It was a feeling Mary had not been able to shake since she met the young girl a mere two weeks ago, one that made her snatch the girl up in the first place and bring her to this Omega Safe House.

Safe Houses were a good idea, a way to protect those Omegas in heat who did not wish to be sated through sex. This was one of the few legitimate Safe Houses in London. Many others were a front for Heat Brothels—which were illegal, though the government looked the other way in most cases—that allowed Alphas and Betas alike to enter, something a Safe House wouldn’t allow. Mary was only allowed in after giving the teenage receptionist money.

Margaret stood before her, shaking, with water dripping off her hair. She spoke such sad words that it was a wonder that Mary managed to keep all the opinions she was forming to herself.

“You ask if I’m like you?” Mary’s brow quirked up.

Nodding, Margaret explained. “Father always said I wasn’t like him. He called himself and my brothers ‘Alphas’ and me a word I assume is bad, for he says it so harshly.”

“An Omega?” Mary reached for a second towel before draping it over the other’s chopped hair to stop the water from dripping down her shoulders. It was bad enough how Omega’s esteemed themselves in society, but for someone of prime age to believe the word itself was vulgar? “Darling, it’s not a bad word. Nor is it bad in general. Your father—” she couldn’t bad-mouth that scum; she was still earning the girl’s trust— “holds views most others do not.”

“Really? I’m… not bad?”

Mary shook her head. “Not in the least bit!”

Margaret hummed a bit before asking again, “Are you an Omega?”

“No, love.” Attempting to soak up all the water by squeezing the towel over the short length of Margaret’s hair, she added, “What do I smell like?”

“Smell? I don’t smell you…”

Mary paused to gape at the girl. She couldn’t smell her? That was one of the most basic things a human could do: smell other classes. “Not at all?”

Margaret shook her head, confusion coming over her young face.

“I am a Beta.” That didn’t help the girl’s confusion. Mary had a lot to explain… but first, she said “Let’s get you dressed!” She pulled the towels away, knowing that modesty was yet another thing Margaret was not accustomed to. When Mary first met her, the girl was nude on a table, no shame of any sort. She began dressing the girl. They weren’t the best of clothes, just what the Omega Safe House had to offer.

The two were already locked in for the night. In the morning, they would flee to Cardiff, a plan Mary had only decided on when she picked up the clothes. Honestly, when she decided to take Margaret away from the lab, it was only moments prior to the act. The girl had just looked so sad, so lost, with big brown eyes that were pleading for help, even if the owner did not know the concept. Mary could not have left her there.

With the girl all dressed, Mary smiled at her before snatching up a brush and grabbing her hand. Mary pulled Margaret from the bathroom, taking her to sit on the bed so she could brush her hair.

“Margaret. What do you know about Alphas, Betas, and Omegas?” she finally asked, her pinkie creating a part.

The girl took a while to answer, “Nothing. I know Father is an Alpha. A word that means first in some way. But that’s it. What they have to do with people… I do not know.”

“And history? Math? Literature?” She gulped before adding the only one she really wanted to know about. “Sex?” She hoped she wasn’t making the girl uncomfortable.

“You are asking of my teachings?” Margaret shuffled her hands a bit, figuring out the right thing to say. “Father didn’t like my studies, though my brother insisted I be allowed. I was taught to read, but I wasn’t permitted much. Math was one of the things I was allowed. Jacob said I was excellent at it. But—I’m not familiar with, um—sex.”

Mary sat beside her. Her teeth biting into her lip, the brushing only partly done. She tapped her thumb on her knee, thinking. “Margaret, do you know what makes men and women different?”

“No…”

For Christ’s sake. This wasn’t a child she was talking to, but a grown woman. Mary estimated she was in her late teens, possibly her early twenties. Mary’s pity was turning to anger, and quickly. “Oh.” She glanced to Margaret; there was curiosity on her face. “Well— you see…” She couldn’t form the correct words.

Margaret just watched her, waiting.

“Love, physically. Men and woman are different—er…” She sighed, before getting an idea. “Do you know what a tablet is?”

“Like, what Moses received the commandments on?”

Oh yes, her father was not only a bigot Purist but also a well-known religious leader. “Kinda… More modern. It’s a device similar to the one I carried at the lab. Except, instead of having access to your information—” though most of Margaret’s medical history was off limits to Mary, “— I have a connection to the Internet!”

Margaret didn’t speak as Mary stood and went to the bag she’d left near the front door when they had arrived. She pulled out the tablet, flipping it on instantly. Sitting beside the girl, she put the tablet in her view.

“Let me show you how to use it!”

* * *

The Alpha—David Hooper—sat on Sherlock’s sofa, hesitating to offer him a case. The man drummed his fingers on the armrest, his chin lifted as he looked around the detective’s flat. He eyed the boxes in the small room, a certain degree of disgust in his eyes. “Just move in?”

Sherlock’s brows pressed together, “No. I’ve lived here for months.” His eyes trailed to the boxes, not really caring that he hadn’t unpacked. He had what he needed.

“Ah.” The man straightened up, glancing to his men. One stood near his client—the resemblance in the man’s features suggested he was Mr. Hooper’s son, or perhaps a nephew—the other rested at the top of Sherlock’s stairs. “I have been told by a friend of mine that you are the best at what you do.”

“That’s an understatement.” Sherlock said with a click of his tongue, his eyes falling to the floor.

The man cleared his throat awkwardly, making Sherlock wonder if he had been expecting modesty. “Right…”

“Oh, do get on with it. I do have other things to attend to.” Things. There were no things. He had no cases, not for weeks now. In truth, he was entirely too bored. And waiting for this imbecile to speak wasn’t helping.

Sherlock knew his client’s type. Tailored suit, monogrammed golden cufflinks with a matching ring circling the fourth digit on his right hand, and hair combed, with the right amount of waves: he was posh. All were signs of a man who cared about his first impression, a trait shared by many businessmen. Add that to the strong stench of antiseptic, and Sherlock assumed he dealt in the medical field. His hesitation possibly stemmed from pride. Any idiot could predict the case revolved around the company this man owned or worked for. It was child’s play to Sherlock.

With a deep breath, his client glanced up at the man Sherlock believed to be his relative. “Mr. Holmes, I need you to find my daughter. She has been kidnapped.”

The detective blinked once. “Kidnapped?” He had not been expecting that. In his experience, a father missing his daughter would perhaps act a bit hysterical. But this man simply looked at his nails like it was no big deal.

“Yes. During a power outage at the faculty she was residing in.” David frowned. “There are things you do not have the proper clearance to know, but I own a medical research lab called the Hooper Assembly. My daughter—” he inhaled deeply, “—had volunteered for a series of treatments. The product in her veins is far more valuable than you could imagine. My company would like her back.”

“I’m curious.” Sherlock felt his eyes narrow, feeling a certain dislike for this man. Then again, there weren’t many people he did like. He was forced to tolerate humanity, nothing more. “Are you more disheartened at the fact that your daughter is missing or at the loss that your company is enduring?”

“Are you mocking me?”

Sherlock’s lips turned up ever so slightly. “Oh, no. That would be unprofessional.”

David snickered. “Find my daughter, Mr. Holmes. I will pay you a great sum of money for her return.”

“The treatments. What were they for?”

“I am not at liberty to say.”

Block one. “Security cameras?”

“Those are unavailable. The generators did not click on in time,” David told him, waving his hand at the possible relative, who stepped forward to hand David a file. “Her capture was not caught on camera.”

Block two. “Then I need to examine her last location.”

“No. The area she was held in is restricted.”

Block three. “Employee list.”

David extended the file to Sherlock. “All you are allowed is what is in that file. The employee list is simply those who had contact with her the day she went missing. And, Mr. Holmes, they have signed confidentiality agreements. Do not ask anything about Hooper Assembly, just about my daughter.”

Sherlock reached forward, taking the file. It was far too thin for what he would have liked. “You expect me to find a missing lab rat on so little information.”

“Do not speak so ill of my sister, detective.” The other man jumped, speaking in a rushed voice. Sherlock had been right; they were father and son.

Sherlock met the son’s eyes, taking in his shaken demeanor as David scolded him for the outburst, the name Jacob spilling from his lips in a way only an Alpha could use. There was more worry visible in the younger Mr. Hooper than the elder. Worry was something Sherlock could work with.

“Forgive him. He’s… sensitive. Held too much by his mother.” David turned his attention back to Sherlock. “Think of my daughter as a challenge if you must. Just find her.”

* * *

Mary cleared her throat before reading from the tablet.

“Female Alphas do not knot or need to be knotted, nor do they go into heat like their Beta and Omega counterparts. Just as in a male Alpha, when the pheromones of a person in heat reach their nose, female Alphas feel a pull of animalistic desire and biological need to mate that can only be assuaged by a chemical released in their own ejaculate. The difference between a male and female Alpha is as follows: a male’s ejaculate builds in his knot until he locks with his partner, and it releases over a span of minutes to hours, but a female Alpha's ejaculate builds in glands located near the vaginal opening.

“‘The chemical in an Alpha’s ejaculate is the same chemical that soothes a Beta or Omega in heat. Betas go into heat every two months for only one to two days. To some Betas, the symptoms are barely noticeable, perhaps consisting of slight fever or persistent arousal; for others, the only indication that they are in heat is the way others respond to them. While there have been cases of a Beta experiencing a heat similar to that of an Omega, such occurrences are highly rare. Unable to sate themselves, both Betas and Omegas need the chemical in an Alpha or Beta partners’ ejaculant to assuage symptoms during the entirety of their heat.

“‘An Omega’s heat, in contrast, is powerful, occurring only twice a year for one to two weeks; on extremely rare occasions it may last up to a month. The symptoms of heat are difficult to tolerate and can be very painful to the Omega. The arousal can cause fever, dehydration, and other sequelae if not treated.’”

She heard the girl inhale sharply, her face buried in a pillow. Before, Mary had listened to Margaret, who had read aloud with a degree of confusion. Margaret had first read the words aloud in case she had questions, but some of the details were too much for the girl, and Mary took to reading to her after Margaret’s voice had begun shaking far too much to be comprehensible.

“‘While male Betas do possess a knot, they do not have the ability to make their knot last longer than a few minutes at a time, and for this reason, there exist rare female Omegas who cannot be sated by a Beta because their need for a persistent knot is too great. Omega heat can drive Alphas and in some cases Betas to revert into the most barbaric of behavior in a drive to seek release. A Omega will only truly be sated after heat is completed.’”

Margaret finally pulled away from the pillow, sitting up to look at Mary. “I just—I just do not understand. How is that—” Her hands played with the bottom for her shirt. “My body…it’s never done those things. I—I don’t understand.”

Frowning, Mary set down the tablet. “Doctors have found a way to suppress these— needs. For example, Alphas can take pills that are known as ‘blockers’ that stop the brain from registering the pheromones that Betas and Omegas release during heat. There is also a variety of pills and injections for Betas and Omegas that can completely suppress the heat or block the pheromones from being produced.”

Biting her lip, Margaret nodded as though she were trying to take the information in word by word. “So—I was on those?”

“I believe so.” Mary reached forward and took the woman’s arm, her fingertips moving to brush the punctured scars and fresh bruise. “You said yourself that you have been there forever. You could have been on those drugs since before puberty and never have had a heat.”

“But why!” Margaret shot up off the bed. “Why would my own father expose me to that? Why go against what God has made me to be?”

“Why did your father allow you to believe being an Omega was bad?” Mary countered gently. “Why do you think I took you from that place?”

The girl’s lips pressed to a line as she looked away. “I don’t know…”

“Margaret. When I first met you, you couldn’t even say a simple word let alone a sentence. Your behavior was as bad as that of an addict on the street.” Mary gave her a smile. “You’ve already been doing better without these drugs. Honestly, I was worried.”

“Worried?”

She nodded, “Some blockers and suppressants can become addictive. I was worried you were going to go through withdrawal.” Though, Mary thought, the drugs were not completely out of her system.

“Sedatives.” Margaret frowned, not having to look up to see the question on Mary’s face. “Every once in a while, Father required the doctors or nurses to sedate me.” Her eyes dropped. “It happened once when I misbehaved. I wanted to leave the lab and go to the park that my brother Jacob told me about. I didn’t act as Father required. Then it happened every once in a while. Not when I would act out...they would just… sedate me. I didn’t even know what it was until Jacob told me…”

Mary frowned. “Your brother really cares for you.” Margaret smiled brightly, showing an expression Mary had never before seen from the girl. “Why were you sedated this time?”

“You…” Margaret finally took her seat on the bed again. “They always do it when I get a new nurse or doctor.”

The girl inspired another long sigh from Mary. Right now, she would kill for a cigarette. “I’m sorry. That must not have been pleasant.”

Before Margaret could speak, a chime sounded. Jumping up, Mary went to her things. The sound came from to the phone hidden in her bag. It was new, and only one person had the number: Jacob Hooper.

Flipping it open, Mary saw was a new message: _We have a problem_.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> A special thanks to AllTheBellsInVenice for betaing!


End file.
